


Strength of the Small

by DarklingImp



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Animal-Human Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, Cute, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, Frisk's Pronouns are They/Them, Gen, Humor, Nonbinary Character, True-Pacifist Route, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarklingImp/pseuds/DarklingImp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, we can all use a helping hand -- or wing, as the case may be.</p>
<p>(Based vaguely on a prompt from Tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength of the Small

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shapeshiftinterest](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=shapeshiftinterest).



> Dedicated to **shapeshiftinterest**.   
>  (Thanks for helping me get my Tumblr started, Little Buddy!)

Living in the Underground wasn’t so bad.

At least, not in the eyes of Frisk, the eight-year-old who had recently become the newest Fallen Child.

They had originally planned to make their way through the Underground as quickly as possible, sneak past Asgore, and use their advantage of having a human soul to cross the barrier and return to the Surface. After all, that’s what any kid should want, right? To return to be with their own kind?

Well, not Frisk.

Their nearly disastrous meeting with Flowey had unnerved them greatly, enough that they were willing to leave Toriel’s care and head on their way. While it had pained them to say goodbye to the kind goat-woman, the idea that a creature as seemingly innocuous but absolutely terrifying as Flowey meant they hardly rested during their brief stay within the Ruins.

Snowdin, however…

Well, for one thing, flowers don’t bloom in snow.

The most appealing reason to staying in eternally wintry town, however, was the two Skeleton Brothers: Sans and Papyrus.

Frisk liked them both the moment they had met. Sans was very laidback and always good for a joke, so it was fairly easy for the child to befriend him. 

And Papyrus? Well, apart from their little “bonetrousling”, he and Frisk got along swimmingly. He was loud, energetic, incredibly good at making puzzles and just as eager as Frisk to hear a bedtime story. In all honesty, Papyrus was just a big kid -- albeit a very strong monster kid who could easy trounce Frisk if he wanted to (though, thankfully, Papyrus didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Literally.).

After their little tiff and failed “date” (for which Frisk honestly could care less about because it was hardly any different from any other day hanging out with Papyrus, only with more talk about “dating power” -- whatever that meant), Frisk took up homestead with the two skeletons.

It was a lot of fun, really. 

Even though the two of them were really different, both monsters quickly grew fond of Frisk and became like the big brothers the child always wanted. Papyrus never let Frisk go to bed with an empty belly, even if it meant serving scarcely edible excuses for spaghetti. He was getting better at it, bless his soul. It was an agonizingly _slow_ progress that led to several nights of indigestion, but better nonetheless. They let Frisk sleep on the couch, though neither skeleton ever scolded the child over their preference to crawl into Papyrus’ bed (it was fluffier, anyway). And whenever Frisk actually DID sleep on the couch, Sans never scolded them for not making up their sheets. Papyrus usually would, but he would also just gather up the bedding himself whenever Frisk felt particularly impish and decided to hide behind Sans when the taller skeleton was lecturing them.

All in all, it was a wonderful, flower-free time.

…For the most part.

The problem with a human having fallen into the Underground was that they were, in theory, considered more useful dead than alive. With only one more soul being needed for their king to break the barrier and reintroduce monsters to the Surface, there was a high price tag on Frisk’s soul.

Fortunately, most monsters only vaguely had an idea what a human actually _looked_ like, as there were quite a few monsters with humanoid forms. With relatively few monsters having been born before they were driven Underground, it was easy to fool everyone.

Besides, most monsters had grown up with horror stories of how evil humans were, and Frisk was just the opposite. Would an evil person pet a dog, listen to a lonely Snowman’s dreams of broadening his horizons, or do puzzles with Papyrus?

No, so long as Frisk behaved themself, to the rest of Snowdin, they were just that strange furless kid staying with the Skeleton Brothers.

Going _outside_ of Snowdin, on the other hand?

Now THAT was a bit more problematic.

Namely, for one reason in particular: the Captain of the Royal Guard, Undyne.

The Amazon of a fish monster (or Amazon _ian_ fish monster, as the pictures Papyrus and Monster Kid showed Frisk reminded the child of a tall piranha lady with legs) was determined to find a human so she could set everyone free. Frisk felt that was very admirable and all, but they preferred living, so they decided to avoid Undyne as long as possible. Most of the time, it was easy enough to do seeing as how the majority of Papyrus’ guard training took place at the captain’s house. 

However, there were rare times when Undyne came to Snowdin to check in with the sentries or just hang out. While most of these were announced ahead of time with a text or call to Papyrus, some were not. 

After several close calls that involved ducking down in Sans’ sentry station and Papyrus nearly blurting out that he was making spaghetti for “the human” (he always managed to correct it to “his small friend”, but only just), Frisk started to worry that they might get their new friends in trouble if Undyne found out the brothers had been harboring them.

So, with a heart filled with determination, Frisk decided to continue their journey.

 

 

The next leg of their quest involved a grueling trek through Waterfall, Undyne’s homeland. 

True to its namesake, the area was a natural aquifer -- meaning much of the water had to be crossed either through bridges (both monster-made and natural, in the case of some of the strange plants that proved sturdy enough to bear a child’s weight) or by fording it. In places where there was actually a decent expanse of dry ground, it was often too dark to see without the waning light of phosphorescent minerals and the gleam of teal magic-infused Echo Flowers and mushrooms. Frisk wondered how monsters managed to live in this squalor without falling victim to one of the many sharp drop-offs in this perma-slick realm.

Really, the residents of Waterfall could have used a lot more flashlights. That or some hard hat headlamps they had seen construction workers on the Surface wear.

Whoever built the bridge _really_ could have used those. 

Speaking of whoever built a bridge with all of those piers to nowhere…Frisk was going to find them and have a serious talk with them. At least, as serious of a talk as an eight-year-old could about architectural design.

Or at least, they hoped they would, because Undyne seemed to have other plans.

Despite Papyrus’ distraction attempt, the fish monster had eventually caught wind of Frisk’s presence and gave pursuit. Very pointy, stabbity-stab sort of pursuit. It was a miracle that Frisk managed to avoid getting speared on the maze of planks and piers that made up the bridge, and only by the slimmest of chances had they survived Undyne’s _slicing the bridge in half_ that sent them careening far to the ground below. 

How they didn’t get squished by the heavy broken planks, break all of their bones on impact, or land in the river and drown was beyond Frisk’s comprehension. They were just happy they woke up on a soft bed of flowers without more than a few bruises and a bump on their noggin.

Frisk could really have done without being target practice for Mad Dummy’s knife-throwing, though.

Thank goodness for Napstablook‘s unintentional rescue.

Even though they had been incredibly determined to make it through Waterfall in one day, two near-death experiences were almost more than Frisk could take. 

As soon as they pulled themself out of the pool that made up the garbage dump and found some higher dry ground on which to sit, they immediately decided to call Papyrus and have him or his brother come and find them. Surely it would be much easier to navigate such a dank, puzzle-filled cavern with a little help?

There was one problem, though:

_Their phone was gone._

Not only had they lost their only means of navigating the puzzles of Waterfall, but also their only way of contacting their new friends. Sure, there was a chance they could find a new phone if they made it to another monster shop, but they had none of the phone numbers memorized.

And what if Mom…ur, Toriel finally decided to return one of their calls? Frisk would miss it. And without having memorized the number, Frisk would probably never hear from the kind goat lady again.

Sparing a moment to wipe the tears from their eyes, Frisk decided maybe their best bet would be to take Napstablook up on their offer to visit. After all, the ghost had been friendly enough back in the Ruins -- albeit a bit low in the self-esteem department -- and had unwittingly saved Frisk’s life from Mad Dummy. Surely they wouldn’t turn down a child in desperate need of some rest, would they…?

Of course, they had to find Napstablook first.

At this point, however, they were really tired and one of their legs had been hurting pretty badly for a while. Looking down at the ripped material of their pants, they realized there was a clean gash along the side of their right calf. One of Mad Dummy’s knives must have hit home.

Gingerly, they inspected what they could see. It wasn’t too deep but it was still bleeding. Fishing the old roll of soggy stretchy bandages -- the ones they’d had wrapped around a sore forearm when they Fell -- from their pocket, they thought about wrapping it up but decided maybe they needed to wash it first. After all, they had just slogged their way through a garbage dump. That water couldn’t be sanitary.

Looking around, they saw a small peninsula jutting out into a pool of seemingly clear water. Upon further inspection, they saw that the water was flowing over an underwater ledge not too far away to the dump below. Good. Just what they needed.

It wasn’t until Frisk was nearly across before they realized they were not alone.

“Chirp?”

A yellow bird, nearly as big as Frisk’s head, had been bathing in a puddle nearby. It shook itself dry, its feathers fluffed out to make it look like a sunshine-colored beach ball with legs and a duck-like bill, looked up at Frisk with great interest.

Frisk gave a start, one hand immediately flying to their chest to shield their soul. _Not another strange monster!_ they thought. _Not now!_

Admittedly, most of the monsters they had met were very nice and helpful, but some of them were such rough-and-tumble types that they would accidentally hurt Frisk without meaning to (really, humans were the stronger creatures _how_?). Those that actually tried to take Frisk’s soul were usually easily enough to negotiate with or, in the very least, dodge until Frisk could escape. 

With an injured leg, though? That could spell disaster.

Frisk threw out their free hand, gesturing they didn’t want to fight. The bird just cocked its head to the side and chirped curiously. Taking a step back, Frisk prepared to flee, but the stabbing pain of their injured leg sent them careening to the ground with a yelp.

Instinctively, Frisk grabbed their injury, wincing as they put too much sudden pressure on the torn skin. When they saw the bird hopping quickly over to them, their heart plummeted to their stomach.

Frisk threw out a hand, warning them off, their frantic look as pleading as they could express. The bird flinched back for a full five seconds before bursting into a flurry of flailing wings and shrill, terrified peeps.

Then it darted straight for Frisk.

 

 

\---Only to stop by their leg and start hopping up and down, its eyes honed in on the bleeding injury. 

It took Frisk a few moments to realize that, if the bird really WAS a monster, it was more interested in Frisk’s wound than taking their soul. Frantically chirping, the bird’s gaze flitted between the injury and Frisk’s face, as if asking “ _What is that red stuff? Is that normal for you? That’s not normal. Shouldn’t that red stuff stay inside of you?!_ “

The odd bird’s concern filled Frisk with appreciation.

A pat on the head was momentarily reassuring enough for the bird, and Frisk carefully scooted over to the ledge of the ground to wash their injury. With the dirtied trouser leg out of the way and the old blood washed away, it didn’t look nearly as bad. Of course, some blood kept trying to seep out and it really wouldn’t do to spend one’s time eluding a murderous fish without bandaging it up.

The soggy old bandages, once washed, worked for the moment, but Frisk knew they’d need replacing with some proper wrapping before long. After washing and wringing out their bloodied trouser leg as best they could, they looked back over to their concerned feathered companion and smiled a close-lipped smile in thanks.

“Peep peep?” it trilled sheepishly.

Frisk, of course, could not speak bird so they did not comprehend. It sounded worried so Frisk ran a finger over its feathered head, scratching it under its bill until it trilled happily. 

Even if they couldn’t speak the same language, it was nice to know that someone cared.

As they petted the bird, Frisk’s eyes wandered around the room. The garbage dump lay out before them, much bigger than they originally thought. They couldn’t see the patch of yellow flowers as it was obscured by several mountains of junk, but they could distantly see what looked like some of the area Frisk had covered earlier. They soon spotted the damaged bridge. Frisk watched as another heavy plank loosened and tumbled down to the water below.

Oh, and Undyne was gone, too.

Had she gone home, or was she looking around for Frisk’s remains? Frisk wasn’t quite sure where the fish monster lived, but if Undyne wasn’t in sight and with no way to call Papyrus and find out her whereabouts, the danger of her coming upon an injured Frisk was a very real threat.

Suddenly, Frisk realized just how exposed they were and shivered.

Frisk looked around cautiously, wondering if Undyne might spring out at any moment. Slowly, it dawned on them that there was another peninsula not more than a few yards away from the one they were sitting on. Following it with their gaze, they realized the area beyond was, in fact, relatively close to the entrance to Snowdin.

There was hope for them yet!

Even if they couldn’t make it all of the way to Snowdin, there was a good chance they might run into one of the Skeleton Brothers on the way. 

Oh.

But…how would they get across?

The water didn’t look very deep, but Frisk knew better than to judge water depth by appearance alone. One of their science books had mentioned something about the water refracting light and making it look far more shallow than it was. And the current looked far too fast for an exhausted, injured child to swim across safely…

Frisk couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped them as they hung their head. They were so close…!

Their bird pal chirped, cocking its head to the side. 

Not sure if the bird would understand, Frisk pointed across the room, back to themself, and then across the gap again. Frowning, they then gestured a swimming motion before heaving a sigh and motioning to their injured leg. 

The bird was silent for a moment before it let out a loud chirp and darted over to the edge of the peninsula, flapping its wings excitedly. When Frisk cocked their head to the side and tried to decipher the bird’s strange behavior, the bird ran back, pinched Frisk’s sleeve in its beak, and began tugging.

It…wanted Frisk to follow?

Not seeing anything better to do, Frisk crawled over to the edge after the bird who, for some strange reason, now kept flying back and forth between the two landings.

Obviously, it must not have gotten the picture. Frisk made swimming motions against before slicing their arms through the air in a big X, shaking their head fervently. 

The bird returned to the side Frisk was on and, giving a pointed look at the child, swung its head toward the other side of the room.

Frisk pondered the bird’s behavior for a moment. Maybe…maybe they could go for help? 

The ground beneath them was gritty with silt and sand. Perfect material for drawing. This bird seemed smart. Maybe if they just drew Sans and Papyrus’ faces in the dirt, the bird could go find one of them! 

Quickly, Frisk drew their finger through the gritty mud, leaving behind two rough images of her pals’ faces. Then they realized the bird might bring back Undyne, so they drew the fish lady, too (her incisors were a little more like a sabertooth tiger’s than real, but it hoped the bird would overlook that), taking care to draw a big circle and line through the drawing before turning back and gesturing to the bird their instructions.

The bird…it actually shook its head no? Seriously??

_Alright, why did it just hit its face on the ground like that?_

Frisk was beginning to think that ma _aaaaaaybe_ their instructions had overloaded the poor little thing and it was having a meltdown before the bird suddenly shot into the air, and then tiny talons were digging into their shoulders and--

“Hrk!”

Okay, they were wrong about the bird being a friend! Friends don’t strangle friends with their own shirt collars! 

The choking noise got the bird to ease up but they didn’t stop attacking Frisk’s shirt. Frisk flailed, trying to get the creature to leave, but suddenly found their shirt yanked up to their midriff and their feet leaving the ground entirely.

_Holy spaghetti_ , this bird was _flying them across_!

When their feet finally touched soil again and their shirt fell back into place, the bird landed at Frisk’s feet and nodded with a triumphant chirp. Instantly, Frisk was on it, hugging the bird and gently bonking their forehead against its feathered crown, smiling widely in thanks. Realizing it was being smothered in grateful snuggles, the bird cheeped and cooed appreciatively until Frisk sat it down again.

With a wave goodbye, Frisk thanked the bird again before hobbling off toward Snowdin.

_Who knew something so small could be so strong?_ Frisk thought.

 

 

Frisk never would have guessed that, years into the future, they would be on the Surface, looking through childhood photos with their adopted mother Toriel and their birdie buddy (then a permanent honored resident in their house), and hear the kind goat lady say the exact same words about _them_.

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot time! For once, it’s not something related to “Fast Food Friends”.   
> (Unless you all want it to be. This is in an unspecified, supposedly True-Pacifist Route timeline, but whatever floats your boat.)
> 
>  
> 
> Originally, this idea came from a prompt list on **shapeshiftinterest** ‘s Tumblr page. It was supposed to be about Frisk being babysat by an unusual guardian and the Small Bird was in the list of appropriate characters, so I thought, _Overlooked character in a fic? Sign me up!_ It wound up being the shortest babysitting adventure ever and more of a “first meeting” sort of thing, instead, with a bit of introspection on Frisk’s part. 
> 
> Still, not too many fics with the Small Bird in them, so I’m posting it anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I know Frisk is supposed to be constantly determined to get through the Underground and either free everyone or kill everyone, depending on the route, but I just love playing up the “tough kid but still just a kid” theme. It adds a touch of realism to it. 
> 
> My theory is that Frisk did not have a very good life on the Surface before they Fell -- either because they had a nice parent/s and lost him/her/them or because they came from a bad situation, if not both. Seriously, ‘bandages that have been used *many times*’? Sounds like a child that’s been seriously neglected, homeless, or having to reuse strips of cloth bandages because a family is too poor to afford any real ones or because they have run away and that’s all they have.
> 
> So what happens in my stories? Frisk gets their happy ending. Simple as that.


End file.
